


Cop a Feel

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 2 pairs of arms, Additional Features, Blackrom, Body Horror, Cuddling, EriSol - Freeform, Gills, Hickeys, Kissing, M/M, Pitch Flirting, fins, kind of?, mutations, non-canon features, very slightly dubiously consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: That bifurcated pissblooded waste-of-a-troll just can’t get enough of your freakishly-fishy bod, huh? Well, he does treat you real nice, so you guess it’s not that bad.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Sollux Captor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Cop a Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [murderousCroww](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderousCroww/gifts).



It was no secret you were a sea dweller. Actually, if it was a secret, it would be the hardest fucking secret to keep in the history of secrets.

Your hair was sea-saltedly thick and textured, unlike the gruff almost-fur of Vantas’ head. 

Your skin was peppered with soft purple moles, darker in places where it glowed ever so softly with the bioluminescence of deep-sea beasts. 

The skin between your fingers was an almost-film that was just out of reach of being ‘webbed’ and your body was almost flat, thin and lithe, perfect for slicing through thick waters. 

Oh, and there was also the whole fins-instead-of-ears and gills thing. You also had a hook nose, which you _swore_ was some sort of sick fish pun from the universe. 

You were aware you were a freak, basically; and with the rest of your home-planet dead, you were one of two aquatic freak-of-a-troll’s left.

Feferi, however, was more elegant. Frilled and lacy, soft like sea-foam and as alluring as the bunches of poof that hang beside jellyfish stingers.   
Her features were almost the direct opposite of your razor-sharp complexion; she was soft and rounded like air bubbles, a guppy compared to your knifejaw resemblance. Pretty cute for a fucking fish-troll. 

This did not, however, deter the almost-spider guy from choosing to bother you over her the majority of the time. 

“Are you glubbin’ serious? Again?”

Usually you weren’t adverse to attention, but he was more of a freak that you are. 

The 4-armed mutant with the fetish for pairs had pestered you almost every day since you let him cop a feel on your fins, near begging for more of that Ampora bod. 

Or, well, your mutations. Which were on your bod. Fuck it it’s relevant, you weren’t wrong.

He shrugged nonchalantly as a hand reached out to rest on your hip. You swatted at him but two more just came to grip your waist and shoulder. 

Insistent, much? Damn, if you pulled this shit you’d get culled by the candyblood. 

“Fine! But this is the last time, Sol.”

He somehow melts  _ into _ a smirk, the smaller set of secondary canines peeking out from his upper lip as both sets of ears raise with his smile. 

You flush a soft lavender before you can stop it. 

“You act like you’re not going to be letting me get all up in your finth tomorrow too.”

You bristle and flick at him.

“Just because us Ampora’s are generous to entertain a pissblooded degenerate like yourself doesn’t mean I’m just willing to bend over for you whenever you’re horny for fins.”

“You are _one_ Ampora, and you _are_ willing to bend over for me.”

You lean into a punch and he ducks, his upper set of arms coming to your shoulder to push you away with a grin. 

Catching yourself quickly, you find yourself unable to move your hands from where they were folded across your chest now. 

Confused, you look to him for answers and his eyes spit with bolts of psionic electricity; you groan. 

“I already agreed to let you cop one, don’t make me take that privilege aw— away.”

Nodding, he takes your hand — which he had to unfurl from gripping the danglies of your scarf — and leads you out of the control room. 

You didn’t say goodbye to Kanaya, who was only noticeable by the top of her right horn and the occasional _fwip_ ping of a book page, but it’s not like she was one to give half a glub what the rest of you got up to in your spare time. 

As he’s walking you through the catacomb-like corridors of the meteor, you take a chance to admire- no. ‘Appreciate’ his features. Mutations. Whatever. 

His horns came in pairs, as so did his ears, fangs, pairs of arms and dream-selves; but from where you were being dragged alongside him, you got to see more of his lesser known mutations. 

The back of his neck was spattered with the softest of freckles, a gentle reminder of the sun and barely noticeable on the dull grey of his skin; they seemed to clump together behind his ears and float over what little of his cheek you could see. 

His body hair seemed to come two-fold also, a fuzzy trail smoothening out at his jawline that lead you up to his hair, and your fingers itched to sweep through it. 

You hadn’t seen it yet, but you had scornfully overheard Fef gawking at his double-jointed hand holding. Of course even his skeletal structure would need to get in on the double dangs. 

Almost tripping as he tugged you out of your thoughts and into what you assumed to be his claimed respiteblock, he’d spun around at you and jammed a hand behind your head, shifting the door closed. 

“Welcome to Catha El Tholluckthander.”

He dropped your hand unceremoniously as you grunted under your breath, “what the fuck kinda language are you speakin.’”

He was lanky and dumb and it made you wonder if his height got in on the dangs too. 

Sollux stepped over bundles of cables of cables and collapsed the bag of sticks that was his body onto one of Strider’s makeshift beanbags — a whole bunch of pillows under a blanket — and patted his knees with his four hands...?

A beat passed of you standing at the door and his sitting. 

“What?”

“Come n’ thit”

“No.”

His lower pair of ears drooped and his eyebrows furrowed; your chest swelled in a burst of pride at that reaction and your fins flared wide. Fuckin’ touch-starved traitors.

“I’m not athking you to thit on my fucking bonebulge, jutht let me get up clothe.”

The mention of genitals was  not helping the whole ‘ _blatant display of embarrassment_!’ Of course this dumb fuckin loser pissblood would bring up bonebulges the second he saw an opening.Oh no, Eridan wouldn’t let him just get the upper hand here. 

“Yeah, okay then.”

Aha, what an excellent plan. You bet Sollux wouldn’t’ve expected such a power move. 

...

Except when you strode over and made yourself as comfortable as you could in the dip of Sol’s lap, not facing him because that would _kill you_ out of awkwardness, and the lower pair of those awful hands slipped into the ridge of your hips, you couldn’t help but flare up again.

He worked the pads of his lower-arms thumbs into your hip bones as he spoke, working off your scarf idly. 

“You don’t mind me touching, do you?”

“As long as you don’t yank on them this time.. I’ll bite your glubbin’ hand off this time.”

He snorted and you flicked your fins, making sure to catch his face.

The flat top of Sollux’s claw pushed on the bottom of your gills, forcing the flap to slip over and encase his somewhat incredibly sharp razor-pointed claw in one of the most sensitive areas of your whole body. Aw glub. 

Sucking in a breath, eyes closing tight and back going taut, you inhaled deeply. 

“Those aren’t my fins.”

“Do you want me to thtop?”

You let a little hesitation build, still insistent on getting the upper hand, before leaning back softly to let his thumb side across the full length of your gill. 

“That’th what I thought,” as he scraped along the sensitive slits with the point of his claw. 

It was nice. His low-caste blood was noticeably warm under the delicate coolness of your gills. 

You let yourself relax into him, leaning your head on the side of your scarf so he could keep playing with your gills as you revelled in his soothing motions. 

“Can I do thomething?”

Your eyes blinked open, not sure when they’d shut, while his thumb idly ran circles on the lip of your gills. 

“If you cover them I will just breath through my mouth.”

You secretly wanted him to cover your gills.

“No, not that.”

Boo hoo hoo :(

“Then what? I’m not going to let yo-“

He groaned loudly and very dramatically over you and leaned around your torso, and before you could process how close he was to your grubscars and secondary-gills he’d hooked your feet and spun you around in his lap. 

“So- _Sol_ —!”

One set of arms heaved your legs up and onto him, while the other pulled your torso in close. 

It was ever so sightly humiliating for him to be holding you like a glubbing wriggler, but you weren’t complaining when he leaned down and shut you up by kissing your gills. 

Wait. Oh. That did not feel particularly bad.

Your face was as flush as an oyster and you inhaled deep and slow, your hands wavering over his chest which was  so glubbing close  as he just softly pecked at your gills. 

It didn’t feel bad at all. 

“Wh-hat are you doin’?” 

You warbled childishly over the ‘W’ like a wriggler. 

“Kithing your gillth?”

“Well—well, yeah? _Wh_ -why?”

You bit down hard on the tip of your tongue for making you stutter. 

“If I tell you, promithe to not throw a bitch-fit?”

Okay, at that, you admit, you did shove him. Even though you were- let’s say, ‘susceptible to bitch-fits.’

He just snickered at you and dipped low, to the ear-flap beneath your fins that shivered under his unintentionally warm breath. 

“Fef went crathzy when I did thith to her. Didn’t wanna leave you out of the thenthation.”

You sunk a little at that, but didn’t know why. Just kidding it was totally because you wanted to be the only one he had wanted to do this to. You glubbin’ _hated_ being the other troll. 

Sollux must’ve noticed how you bristled because he laughed again and “c’mon!”’d at you so smoothly you almost didn’t feel bad again; but what really made you feel better is how the pissblood swiped the tip of his tongue under your gill flap and you fell apart in his lap. 

Your legs kicked out and your chest lurched and he smirked, purring into the crook of your neck. 

Endorfins ( ~~haha~~ ) rushed into your think-pan and you felt so safe in his arms, scrabbling for purchase and clinging to his shirt. 

“Elegant, for a violet-blood.”

You just chittered lowly into his chest at the jab while he left soft pecks over your gills, pushing them shut with his lips. 

It was soothing. It made everything else melt away, the soft whirring of his PCs in the background and his massaging lulling you to sleep. 

— — —

You woke up alone, in your recuperacoon. How thoughtful of him to dump you in fully clothed. 

Wait, no, that was thoughtful. He didn’t strip you, like a normal person. Fuck, point 1 to Sollux for being decent. 

Which reminded you of the circumstances to which brought you here. You fell asleep in Sollux’s arms and oh _gog_ that is horrifically embarrassing. 

You were half tempted to take a big mouthful of the soporific swill you were stewing in and be done with conscious thoughts, maybe join Gamzee’s bullshit religion so you never have to face Sollux again with rationale. 

Hey, no, calm down. You were Eridan glubbin’ Ampora, descendant of Orphaner Dualscar. You’d just put a bullet between those bi-coloured eyes and be on with it. 

Yeah, ok, that’s enough trash talk to convince yourself you hate him. 

Anyways, you couldn’t spend all day in the recuperacoon. After a while it starts to seep through your pores and dries you out. 

Now you needed to get out, in your gross sticky clothes. You had two options; wearing one of the various maintenance jumpsuits that seemed to be strewn around this meteor for the long-gone janitorial staff to don- or you could go and wash your clothes. 

You opted for option 2. 

After successfully climbing out with minimal drippage, you realised you did not have your scarf with you. 

It was probably still at Sollux’s block, which is good because washing sopor out of such a delicate article takes too much time for you to give enough of a shit. 

You stickily transportalised to the control room and the scene unfolds rapid fire. 

Your cellular makeup is reassembled, you spot Sollux and Feferi in a pile of horns with Karkat looming over them, Sollux is wearing your scarf draped thick over his skinny shoulders and Karkat’s face flushes a sickly red, Feferi squeals higher pitched than a whale song and—

“You left a fuckin’ _hickey_ , you pissblooded _shit tissue_?!”

**Author's Note:**

> this was totally inspired by @murderousCroww ‘s fic “That Makes Both of Us Ugly, I Guess”!!!   
> please go read it, I’ve never seen Sollux portrayed as hex-limbed before and its fucking awesome, AND it comes with their sick as shit art to go with!!! 
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading and I MIGHT, MAYBE, VERY POSSIBLY might make another chapter to this with smut. maybe. but for now you get just guys being dudes, kissing and shit :)
> 
> —rudy :D


End file.
